


do it

by bugabooie



Category: StarKid Productions RPF, The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Angst and Humor, Death, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:15:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26061760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bugabooie/pseuds/bugabooie
Summary: running through the hospital takes a literal turn for the worst as hallways turn into memory lanean extension of the ending of tgwdlm
Relationships: Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	do it

**Author's Note:**

  * For [my own catra simp](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=my+own+catra+simp).



> i have no written anything in a while holy shit
> 
> bUt just know that this was not spell checked or read through but i did make sure to scan as i went so hopefully its not too bad? i dunno its bearable i did the same with my other fics so this is probably expected jsjeje
> 
> tw / toxic households, death
> 
> enjoy !

Emma didn't have any place to go to or anywhere to hide, but she still ran as though her life depended on it, mostly because her life actually did depend on it this time. There was no class to catch or a shift to check in to. All that existed now was the horde of singing zombies chasing her and the living nightmare they wanted to make her live through.

She didn't think it would've ended up this way. When she woke up that morning two weeks ago, she thought this was any normal day. Of course, she would hate it as always, but now that it was being compared to this, she would gladly accept the simple workday. In less than twenty-four hours, she had managed to kill multiple members of the undead, fall in love(a stupid idea that is currently undergoing the worst backfire in the history of backfiring), survive a helicopter crash, watch a theatre blowup from the distance, and finally get shipped to the Clivesdale hospital. What the fuck.

It was now two weeks later and she was supposedly getting sent over to Colorado. She was supposed to anyways. She made a mental note to double-check before accepting hugs again. That is if she ever got that chance.

After processing the emotional roller coaster that was reuniting with your middle-aged crush and then being threatened with immediate death by said person, Emma was now sprinting down the hallways of the hospital on her injured leg, doing anything she could to escape that fate. Nothing was going to stop her now. Not after everything she'd gone through to escape that. She refused to suffer for nothing.

She pushed open the door to a separate hall and kept on running, only to slam into the wall in front of her. Her instinct had been to make some sarcastic comment about poor planning, but one glance around the area had her questioning everything other than that. She wasn't in the hospital anymore. This was her high school bedroom. 

She'd recognize it anywhere. There was a poster from Brigadoon with the ripped corner, her blankets were piled on the floor beside her bed, and a photo of her with her boyfriend of the time was sitting on the desk without a crack on the frame. Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked around the room. This had to be some trippy dream or some mind game. 

The door behind her flung open and she jumped, flipping around to see her father in the doorway. It was only then that she realized her hair had been let down and she was dressed like she would've been at the time. She would worry about that later though, mostly because the image of her dad was screaming at her like he always had. She couldn't even wrap her head around what he was saying. Something about dinner and coming downstairs, if she was thinking straight. She shook her head to try and get back into the moment.

"Emma Lee Perkins, are you even listening to me right now?!" the man yelled, clearly taking notice of this behavior. "I need you to grab me a beer from the garage and haul your ass to the dining room or else it's your funeral."

Emma didn't know what it was, but something about this all seemed to revert her back into her teenage habits. She nodded out of fear, not objecting as he wrapped his hand around her wrist to drag her out. Maybe, just maybe, getting through that door would get her out of the horrendous flashback.

It did, just not in the way she wanted it to.

As she felt herself get pulled through the door, there suddenly wasn't anyone dragging her along. Emma looked around the space. She was in the same house, though in the garage this time. Her hand hesitated to pull on the door handle that led inside but she let go when she realized what this was. From the other side of the door, she could hear the loud fight going on inside, both sides equally heated. It was another flashback. She would've remembered this one even without being dropped back into it.

Jane, alive and healthy at age nineteen, rushed out the door and frantically held Emma by the arms. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" she asked in a panicked frenzy, looking all over her frame for any scratches or bruises. That caught her off-guard.

"Wh- yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Emma replied, though she didn't know why. This wasn't real. Jane was dead, wasn't she? There was no reason to act like she wasn't. 

"Okay, good." Jane let go of her arms. "I just. . .I got worried. I hate that you have to deal with all this, you know? It's not right." She started to lead them further from the door, leaving Emma to wonder what exactly was going on. Thankfully, Jane had plans to fill her in. "One of mom's coworkers called and dad didn't like seeing their name on the phone. You know how they get." 

Emma nodded along. She wasn't really listening. She was moreso wondering why she was entertaining this thought. It was like some pre-written script had been coded into her. It was ridiculous. "Yeah. . .I know. Thanks though. I can probably find a friend's place to stay at. We can watch a dumb movie or something."

Jane gently nudged her with her arm. "That's the spirit. Go have fun. Forget about this if you can." Suddenly, her expression softened as the stopped right next to the garage door. "I love you, okay? I'm here if you need me."

Emma thought she might cry. She didn't get that before. When Jane died, their last exchange had been her calling to say she couldn't go to her baby shower, and she was so bitter that she had hung up before that was ever mentioned. Pushing back whatever emotions she was forming, she nodded again. "I- I love you, too."

Just like that, she was walking out of the garage door and into a whole new atmosphere. She noticed the place immediately. It was the house of her first boyfriend and she just so happened to be standing right in front of the stairs, a promise ring ready to be gifted in her hand. She knew what was coming.

From beside her, she felt someone playfully elbow her side. She looked over to see it was one of her best friends at the time: Jacob Daniels. "Hey, don't be nervous. He's gonna love the gift. I can't think of a better one-year surprise."

She didn't want to do this. All the other memories had been fine. They were things considered normal to her as a kid, but this one? This one stung. Every step up the stairs felt heavier than the last. She was nearing the last step when she realized how this one was different than the others. She didn't have to relive it. She had to watch herself go through it the first time.

From afar, she watched her younger self gather courage in front of a boy's bedroom door with a close friend. They were keeping their voices down to keep their presence unknown, laughing under their breath whenever something was too funny to contain. She held her breath as she watched herself take a breath of her own and then open the door. The teen's smile quickly faded and she rushed down the stairs, past her, in a fit of tears. Her first heartbreak was truly something she had never wanted to go through again, and yet here she was. Steps away from the scene.

Emma turned around to try and follow her, but the second she did, the ground beneath her went flat and she was suddenly in the kitchen of her apartment in Guatemala. A smile spread on her face. She always adored the small space she had here. Thinking she was getting a break, she started roaming around the room. Everything felt right for the first time in a while.

Then the phone rang and her heart stopped.

Emma picked up on what this was with the first ring. She was panicking by the second. Her heart was pounding out of her chest as she grabbed the phone off the counter, answered the call, and held it up to her ear. As an explanation of the situation was given to her, her free hand covered her mouth as she fought to hold back tears. It was just another cruel reminder that Jane was actually gone. 

The call ended just as she heard the front door unlocked. She knew full well that would take her to the next scene and, quite frankly, she didn't know if she was ready for that. Her vision seemed to blur as she held her head in her hands.

She still had no idea what this was. It had to be some sick form of punishment by now but she didn't know what she had done if she had at all. She could've gone without the reminder of her shitty home situation, the first time she felt like she wasn't enough, and reliving the moment she got the worst call of her life. That wasn't even half of it. She didn't want to go through anything else in her past. There were some good memories in there somewhere, but she knew this wasn't the place for them. She struggled to remember even one while she stood there.

Emma lifted her head and took another deep breath. This would be over soon. She slowly walked over to the front door and, with nothing to lose, stepped in.

She immediately smelled fresh coffee and could hear the hustle and bustle of a normal day at Beanie's. Before she could fully take in the place, Nora came up from behind her. "Emma, c'mon! We need someone at the cash register."

Looking down to see that she was indeed wearing her clean work uniform, she rushed over to do just that, and that's when she saw him. Her eyes looked the man up and down. That was him. Paul Matthews, the adorably plain regular.

Emma went through the whole transaction as normal. She caught every awkward advance and let a giggle or laugh slip after each one, making a couple of her own. She treated this as if nothing was wrong with the world. There was a smile on her face and everything. As far as she remembered, there were absolutely no bad memories with Paul being at Beanie's. This actually felt more like a second chance.

At some point, she had offered her number, and of course, he agreed. She handed him a napkin to write his own on there. "Nice dream, isn't it?" he asked.

Her face fell. "What? What do you mean?" Taking the napkin from him, she looked it over and carefully dropped it into her apron. This was new. Before she knew it, someone was spinning her around to face them, and it was none other than the same man. It was Paul. They were back in the empty hospital room. She immediately pulled back from him, the blue hue in his eyes putting her off.

"It's a nice dream, isn't it?" he repeated, unaware of just how deep in thought Emma had turned. "It can still happen, y' know? All you've got to do is—"

"I want it." Emma cut him off. She'd thought it through. She knew what she was doing by now. The look of pure surprise and astonishment on Paul's face forced her to hold back some smug smile. 

"What? Seriously?" Paul's eyebrows furrowed. "After all of that? We literally. . .we literally wrote a whole musical about how you make it till the end and you just want to give in?"

Emma nodded, fighting tears and also confusion. She didn't remember a musical but she'd take his word for it. "I mean, yeah. What else can I do? Run around till I pass out and end up the same anyway?"

She sighed. If she was going out, she was getting a final word in. "You literally have. . .nothing to take at this point. My whole life has just been some massive fuckin' shit show. My parents, my ex, my- my sister. It's all gone downhill. It's, like. . .I don't think I've ever been enough or something? And I–"

"What's this? A therapy session?"

"Shut the fuck up, I'm literally about to hand my will over to you." Emma gave him a look. She didn't feel bad about it either. That wasn't her Paul. "Whatever, it's been like this forever. No one needs me, I guess. There's always someone better. Oh, and the one person who did love me died after I actively sought to keep her out of my life! And you. . .I was really dumb enough to think that you would be the one other person on that list."

She broke eye contact, staring down at the floor. "As embarrassing as it is, I fell for you so fucking hard. I knew, I fucking knew, it'd end with me getting hurt again. I knew you wouldn't catch my fall one way or the other and here we are. So what am I still here for, huh? What's the point? Everyone's dead, and you'll only love me if I drink your blue shit vomit or whatever. I'm at some dead end."

Paul(and, respectively, the rest of the hivemind) was taken aback by this. They'd fought so hard for the past two weeks to get this woman on their side and here she was, handing herself over. For a second, his eyes returned to their normal shade of brown. "Emma, I. . ."

Emma looked up when she heard that. She knew it was him for real this time, but she was too slow. All she saw was the brown revert to that bright blue again. "Paul? Are you- are you still in there somewhere?"

He shook his head. "Of course not. Don't be dumb, now–" 

She jumped when she saw his eyes go brown again. There he was. She could just tell. "Paul!"

There was no hug, no celebratory kiss, or anything. The Paul that was still fighting knew there wasn't much time left, but he knew what he wanted to say. He quickly took her hands in his and pulled her close. "Emma, I love you."

And just like that, Emma watched him blink and go back to being apart of the hivemind, but she knew that line was genuine. It meant the literal world to her and she wanted that to be the last words she ever heard out of his mouth. So, naturally, she gripped his hands as tight as she could and pulled him in even closer.

"Do it."


End file.
